A/N: Written for Day 1 of Swan Queen Week August 2016 - Confessions.

Warnings: Non-graphic sexual situations and...sorta voyeurism?

"I thought maybe we could talk," Regina suggests, her voice lower than usual as she follows Emma back into the tiny kitchen of her oversized for her house. Dressed in a tight black leather skirt which perfectly cups her backside and a deep red blouse which screams power, she's nervously toying with her recently cut short hair as she speaks. She sounds stilted and uncomfortable in a way that is almost impossible not to observe, Emma thinks, her own green eyes carefully studying the older woman. She watches as Regina shifts about anxiously, looking like she's ill at-home in her own skin. In fairness, she's been like this a lot as of late. That doesn't make it any less noticeable, though, and Emma finds herself fascinated by it.

Fascinated by Regina - as always.

Like magnets, she thinks; together and apart, but always in the same general orbit.

"Yeah?" Emma asks as she casually leans against the counter, her hands on the tile. "You okay?"

Regina scowls at the question, like she hadn't been expecting it. "I'm - of course I am. Fine. I just…I thought maybe we could talk about…us." Regina tries to add a smile clearly meant to be disarming, but her odd awkwardness undercuts it. She smooths her hands down the sides of her skirt, her fingers catching at the hem like it's alien to her for just a moment before they rise back up and she curls them into a loose ball at her side.

"Us?" Emma queries, her arms folding in front of her chest.

"Yes, us. You and me. Us." She seems irritated to be saying this.

"Right, that us," Emma replies with a nod as she glances around the little kitchen that they're in; it's the one in the house that she's been living at ever since their return from Camelot. At first, it'd been the Dark Swan's home-base because the basement had been useful to her and her plans. Then, it had been her home because she'd been trying to build a life with Hook. With the realization that such a thing will never be possible well-in-hand (finally), she's still living here now because where else would she go where she wouldn't have to concede herself?

Sure, she could move back in with her parents and Little Dude, but that place had been rather cramped before and…sometimes you can't completely go home again (it's weird and she was never a teenager with them, but there's the feeling that they're very much her parents and she just doesn't want to be a thirty-two-year-old living with her parents). She supposes that if she really wanted away from this house, she could rent a room above Granny's as she had when she had first come to this town so many years ago, but none of that is what she wants anymore.

The bitter truth is that she'd spent a lot of time and energy (and blood - both hers and others, much to her shame and chagrin) chasing after a happy ending that had never really been of her own choosing or desire, and now what she wants is something better and more than that.

Something that is hers completely, and not because she thinks she owes anyone or anything.

And not because she thinks that if someone loves her, maybe that'll be enough for her.

"The part that I'm not quite sure about is what we have to discuss," Emma continues after a moment, sweeping these thoughts away and focusing her eyes on the beautiful woman in front of her. "I mean, we're okay, right? You're not pissed at me for something, right?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Emma's head tilts in that way that makes her look almost like a Golden Retriever. "Okay, good." There's a pause and then, "You're okay? Not like…dying of some flesh-eating bacteria?"

"Classy as always, Miss Swan."

"So I did do something to piss you off, then."

"No, you're just…" she looks deeply frustrated for a moment, like she's trying to figure out how to handle this or what she's supposed to see here. Finally, plastering a smile that is almost unnerving on her face, she says in a low voice, "You have been a good friend to me, Emma."

Emma bobs her head. "You've been a good friend to me, too, Regina. I enjoy our friendship."

Regina scowls, for a brief flash of a moment looking deeply impatient. "Yes, as do I. Of course. But I was thinking…I thought that maybe…perhaps we were…more than just…friends."

The word "friends" is almost spit out, like it's almost a bad word.

"More than friends?" Emma prompts.

"Yes. And with Hook finally out of the picture -"

"Hook, what? What does he have to do with anything?" Another head tilt.

Regina rolls her eyes and suddenly stalks forward. "Focus," she says.

"I'm trying to, but you're confusing the hell out of me here, Regina."

"Are you really this obtuse, Swan? Can you really not feel it? Taste it?"

"Taste what?"

"This." Regina rapidly closes the rest of the gap between them and then in one fluid motion, she grabs at Emma's shirt and yanks her forward (and nearly onto her, the motion so great and intense), roughly planting her soft lips upon Emma's. The Savior lets out a sound that is half groan-half gasp at first, but then she's kissing back. Twenty seconds after the kiss had been initiated, she's pushing Regina back and away from her like she's rejecting Regina, but the distance is only there for half a second before she's putting both hands out and shoving the older woman against the wall, moving in to kiss her the moment that Regina is properly pinned there. She feels fingers on her elbow and then her forearm, blunt nails digging in hard as Regina passionately kisses her back - kissing her like she's trying to draw some air from the blonde.

It lasts - God knows how long. Seconds, minutes - some kind of sweet eternity, perhaps.

Or at least until Regina draws a bit of blood thanks to a nip of her teeth against Emma's lower lip and with a soft gasp, Emma is backing away. "Taste," she repeats, her fingers on her lips.

"You know I've always had a thing for you," Regina practically purrs, leaning in to nip at the underside of Emma's jaw; the slight bite isn't harsh, but it's not exactly tender, either.

"I was pretty sure that thing was hate," Emma replies, tilting her head back for Regina.

"Does it really matter what it was?" Regina asks, moving all the way back in and against Emma again. "All that matters is what we can do together. The many ways that we can scream."

"I think it matters. I mean, you don't still hate me, do you?"

"Quite the contrary; I've become quite fond of you over the years, my dear. Quite fond of you, indeed," Regina replies and then she's once again grabbing Emma by the collar of her shirt, spinning her around, and then kissing her with enough passion to burn the whole house down.

Her tongue pushing inwards, Regina's hands quickly fall to Emma's jean-clad hips, her fingers once again digging in deep and hard (pleasurably so, though, Emma is quick to note). This time, Emma's the one who feels something against her when a moment later, the table behind her collides with her knees and she falls onto it, bent backwards and then over by the older woman.

Who immediately places a leg on either side of Emma's and then leans in, attacking the blonde's exposed neck with her tongue and teeth as she covers her. Instinctually, Emma's hand goes up and winds in Regina's dark hair, tugging at the shortness of it and then tightly clutching.

"We could have done this a long time ago if you had been paying close enough attention to…me," Regina scolds. "If you had been, you would have noticed how much I wanted you. And not just as…friends. But you kept your eyes on inferior models - inferior imitations of me - and I mean to make you pay for it," She bites Emma's neck, but just as the whimper leaves Emma's mouth, she's running her tongue over the wound as if to soothe it. For a moment at least.

Before she goes back to what can only be called aggressive marking.

Which…is both a surprise and not one.

Emma's head falls backwards, her mind blanking for a few seconds as the woman atop her continues to make her way up and down her skin sometimes biting and sometimes licking and sometimes blowing air; cold air prickles at her and Emma knows that magic has just been used to disrobe both of them which means yeah, this is really happening. This is actually happening.

"Before we go any further," Regina says - just as she goes a lot further and Emma finds herself momentarily unable to think about anything more than Bob the Builder and the National Geographic channel which…weird but probably not any weirder than anything else around here - "There's something that you should probably know. Something you should know about me."

"You love me," Emma says between breaths, grinning just a bit. "I already know that."

Regina laughs harshly at that. "So arrogant. Perhaps I don't believe in love."

Emma lifts her head - even with everything else going on - and finds Regina's very dark eyes with her own bright green ones. "Yes, you do. I know you. No one believes in love like you do."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Regina answers and then she's pressing inwards and Emma is groaning and crying out as the older woman touches and touches and Emma feels all of the air around her electrifying as Regina attempts to claim her. "You don't know me at all," the woman continues before biting Emma's neck again. "You think that you do, but you don't."

"You're Regina."

"No, I'm the Queen," she answers, and then there's that smirk. She leans off of Emma just a bit and waves her free hand around in the air, the short hair morphing into a high pile of it.

Sitting half-perched atop Emma's hips, she looks proud and yeah, so very evil.

Well, in theory, anyway; it's hard to look evil when you're naked and kind of mid-coitus.

Emma's eyes meet hers again. "I know," she says, an almost lazy smile forming there.

"Excuse me?"

"You're Regina. And you're the Queen. I know."

"I'm not, no."

Regina - no, the Queen, the darker side of the woman who had been split in two - starts to pull away from Emma, but before she can get completely away (that her hands are on Emma's stomach instead of elsewhere is bad enough, the blonde muses), Emma is grabbing her and yanking her back and kissing her hard on the mouth. When she pulls back, she confesses, "I've known who you were since the moment you walked into this house; I know you, Regina."

"You don't."

"I do. You're the Queen part of Regina. Who by the way is absolutely horrendous at pretending to be the non-Queen part."

The Queen rolls her eyes. "Being her has never been easy."

"I know," Emma replies, taking the statement from a dismissive one to a loaded one.

"How did you know who I was? Who I am," the Queen demands. "How did you know?"

"She knew because before you arrived, I was the one she was with. Only, I actually know how to use a bed instead of a table" a voice from the doorway says, and then there's the so-called nicer part of the two of them strolling into the room. The one who had ripped them in half. "But we both knew you'd come."

"Not yet," the Queen mutters darkly, looking obscenely frustrated even though her hands are still on Emma and their position remains delicate. "So this was just some kind of a trick to lure me in? A way to -" She laughs harshly then. "Did you like the show at least? Watching me take the Savior? I didn't assume you for being quite so much of an exhibitionist, Swan. Enjoying people watching you get bent backwards over a counter."

"I enjoy you," Emma tells her with a shrug. "And this was no trick. You came for me. You wanted - you want me."

"No! Not for you. I came to claim you. There is a difference, dear," the Queen retorts, pulling away from Emma entirely now. Another violent swish of her hand and she's back in her decadent Queen's clothes, battle armor on, dark smears of makeup around her dark eyes. "I came to remind you or your place."

"You're lying," Regina tells her, her voice quiet and sure, like she has no doubts about her words. "If it was all just about claiming her, you wouldn't have waited until she broke up with Hook. You would have gone after her the moment you were free of me; you're the part of us who has always believed in taking whatever we want no matter who gets hurt by her actions. But she was someone you didn't want to hurt. Not as much as you thought you did. So you didn't do a damn thing until she made the choice to end things with him. You're here because you want her to choose to be with you. Just as I did. And do."

The Queen's nostrils flare with righteous betrayed rage. "So now what? You try to destroy me once again?" She looks from Regina to Emma, her glittering eyes wide and furious - but also just a little bit hurt looking. "We fight?"

"No. No more fight. Now, I fix my mistake," Regina states, stepping forward. "Now, I fix us."

"Fix us? Oh! Oh, you want me back?" The first question is asked with surprise, but then she's quickly covering and laughing, the sound malicious and cruel. "Little girl too afraid without her protector? Or is just that you know that the Savior prefers the parts of us that I represent?"

"The Savior chooses both of you," Emma says quietly, interjecting. "You're both Regina to me."

"And she loves us both," Regina tells her.

"She -" the Queen laughs. "Oh, she told you that you weren't enough. She -"

"I told her that I wasn't enough," Regina cuts in. "Because the me that loves her fully and for everything that she is…includes you. We understand her and she understands us. The good and the bad parts of us. I wouldn't want half of her and she doesn't want half of us. I thought…I thought that I could be something better without the darkness inside of me. I thought that I could find happiness that way but…that's not how it works. The darkness is part of me. You're part of me. And I'm part of you and neither one of us is capable of happiness by ourselves."

The Queen turns and looks at Emma, her mouth opening in question.

The question is answered with Emma surging forward and kissing her, her hands going up to gently cup the Queen's face - refusing to be rough when it means so very much to show tenderness here.

Because this is every bit a confession of love, need and want.

And understanding of the often conflicting sides of Regina's soul - God, it's so much understanding of that.

When they finally separate from the kiss, Emma puts her hand out to Regina, her arm still around the Queen. It's surreal and bizarre and there's not even a brief bit of hesitation before Regina is moving in and it's the Queen who is looking at her in surprise, still clearly struggling with what's occurring.

"My hope," Regina tells her. "Your strength. This is my fault, but let me correct this."

"You hate me," the Queen reminds her.

"I thought I did. I wanted to. I need you."

The Queen inhales sharply, then looks over at Emma again. "You knew I'd come for you."

"Yeah. Because I know you. All of you. And I choose…all of you." She smiles, then, and hopes that the Queen understands the staggering depth of those words.

"This is a trick," the Queen states again, her voice wavering with uncertainty. Because she does understand...she does.

"No," Regina tells her. "No more tricks or game. This is bringing us both home." Then she's stepping forward with one hand extended to the Queen like she means to take hers and -

The Queen lets out a low growl and then roughly grabs at Regina's hand and yanks the shorter-haired woman close to her, one arm still around Emma as she pulls her other half to her chest; if Regina had assumed that they would just touch and that would be enough, the Queen means to challenge her assumptions and challenge her faith. She means to challenge her statements about choosing for them to be part of the same. She means to find out if she really is wanted.

Their lips meet in what can only be described as a mind-blowing kiss, and then there's a ferocious explosion of light and energy; a soft moan sounds from someone and there's a cry of…something. When the white energy recedes, it's just Emma…and one Regina. Her hair is still cut short, but her eyes are dark with make-up. She touches her hair and then runs her hands down her body like she's ensuring that she's all there. Finally, she looks up at Emma. "It's me."

"You?"

"All of me," Regina says with a bright smile.

Emma lets out a breath and then steps forward, her arms circling Regina's body. She allows herself a long moment to breathe in the other woman's scent, the slightly spicy perfume, and the power which flows effortlessly off of her. "Then," she says just before she leans in and kisses Regina soundly on the lips, the embrace growing passionate and fiery within seconds. Emma pulls away for just a moment and finishes with, "I think maybe we can finally talk about us."

-Fin